the ice pack girl

Cute Subway Boy

Pairing: Peter X Reader
Warnings: Language I think
REMINDER: I do not have a tags list. Please stop asking me lmao

-

It started when Spider-Man crash landed on your rooftop.

You were up there often, usually cause it was quiet and perfect for being alone when you needed to be. Plus, the city lights looked gorgeous at night and you loved drawing the skyline whenever you could. It had become a normalcy for you.

What was not normal, however, was Spider-Man landing face first a few feet from you, letting out a groan of pain.

“What the hell?” You blurted, half scared and half worried as he rolled over, getting up slightly on his elbows and glancing at you.

“Oh, hey,” was all he muttered, not moving another inch but holding a hand to his side. “What’s up?”

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Trans girls playing Pokemon go

Gel ice packs work instead of foam or breastplates and they’re not as hot

If your hair is long enough, you can tie it back to cool down and leave the part in front of the ears down if you need to cover your jawline

Loose fitting athletic shorts are naturally baggy and everyone wears them

Wearing just concealer and setting powder isn’t enough to visibly sweat off

To deal with the Adam’s apple you can apply darker makeup to places where the sun hits it and move your head downwards slightly when swallowing to hide the movements

If you feel unsafe going somewhere it’s completely normal to abruptly turn around when you’re looking at your phone people are used to seeing Pokemon go users

When you’re outside and it’s hot as fuck people aren’t likely to scrutinize you so don’t worry about hiding everything seamlessly

Stay safe and have fun

Prompt: Kimberly getting hurt and the cold ass Trini suddenly being all caring with her

Thanks for the prompt!


Kimberly isn’t one for getting hurt - that’s more Billy’s and Zack’s area of expertise - so when they come back from fighting one of their regulars, Kimberly’s surprised that she’s got a sprained ankle. It’s no big deal really, she’s had sprained ankles before, mostly during her time as a cheerleader, but she would have thought that her suit would protect her from minor injuries..

“Here.”

It takes her a second for her eyes to adjust to see the ice pack in front of her. She looks up to see Trini, her hips cocked and her face looking over to one of the walls of the ship. Kimberly feels a smile tug at the corners of her lips, nonetheless, and she almost can’t help but feel the small chuckle that seems to makes it’s way up her throat. She controls herself, though, and simply takes the offered ice, ignoring the soft look in green eyes.

“Thanks,” Kimberly says, and while she had been meaning to say something else, she’s taken by surprise when Trini grabs one of the chairs around them and then gently lifts her ankle onto it. Kimberly can’t keep her eyes off of the other girl and simply watches with amusement and a small ounce of confusion as the other girl grabs the ice pack out of her hand and places it on her ankle.

“It’s just a sprain.” Trini says, her eyes still fixed on the other girl’s swollen ankle, rotating it every few seconds as she inspected it, ignoring the few hisses that escaped Kimberly. She realized Trini was somehow trying to show that she cared, but the pain was enough to distract her from actually thinking about the fact that Trini wasn’t acting like Trini - which was fine, but she also liked the grumpy side too; there was something about it that made the other girl more intriguing.

“Could you get me some water?” Kimberly asks desperately, sighing a breath of relief when Trini simply nods her head and storms off. She relaxes against the back of her chair and lets her head fall back, exhaustion weighing on her shoulders as she wonders why Trini cares so much.

Trini never really made it a point to help out with Zack or Billy, and if she did it was always with an eye roll and a look of annoyance, so she doesn’t understand why she was giving her so much attention. It felt nice, though, that much she would admit.

Trini comes back with a water bottle in hand and worry etched on her face. Kimberly sits up because maybe something happened in the few seconds Trini had stepped away.

“Is everything okay? Did something happened?” She asks, her heart racing in her chest as her adrenaline rose, her eyes following the other girl as she grabbed a chair and rolled it next to hers.

“What?” Trini asked, her face not masking her confusion, “no - why? Are you feeling alright? Do you need me to take you home? Or do you need food?”

“I-” Kimberly begins, but the words die on her tongue as she keeps her mouth opened, cocking her head to the side in confusion. Maybe she hit her head too? Because she’s sure she’s seeing things. Could Trini actually be worried about her?

Kimberly just watches as Trini leans closer and cups her face, green eyes staring at her with much intensity. There’s a shiver that threatens to course through her body as she feels Trini brush her thumbs along her cheeks, the warm touch making her heart beat harshly against her chest and her stomach to flutter. It’s awkward because she doesn’t what to do with herself, doesn’t know how to take the fact that she just really wants to kiss the other girl, so she clears her voice and forces a smile on her face.

“I think it’s time for me to go home.” Kimberly says, not sure what to do with herself, her hands fidgeting with her pants as she tries to look at anywhere else other than Trini.

“I think I should take you home.” Trini offers, her cheeks flushing a little, but it’s not like Kimberly could tell, the other girl’s tan skin was flawless.

“I’ll be fine Trini.” Kimberly says, reaching out to grab at one of Trini’s hand and squeezing it softly. 

“Come on, lemme take you home,” Trini says, completely ignoring the other girl, smirking when Kimberly simply rolls her eyes.

Kimberly stands with little difficulty and her ankle doesn’t feel that bad anymore, but she lets Trini wrap one of her arms over her shoulder and limps next to her. Kimberly tries to think about everything that doesn’t have to do about the way her heart seems to be racing in her chest or the way her palms go clammy or the way her stomach coils every time she feels Trini brush against her.

So maybe she had to see the soft side of Trini to realize that she might have a crush on the girl. It’s just her luck…

Suho’s Ice Cream

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Suho/Kim Junmyeon x Reader - Fluff, Sexual References

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Suho’s Ice Cream truck is in town.

Requested by @real-bad-wolf for just a Suho fic! I have a little list of request to write but send in your requests!


You sighed. Working your ass off in high school finally awarded you acceptance to a prestigious university that students around the world would die to go for, but you certainly were not expecting the tremendous workload that you had to burden just to pass a stupid math class. Both physically and mentally exhausted, you carried the textbook to your cursed Advanced Calculus and Linear Algebra class in your arms as you stepped out of the gorgeous campus.

Everyday, rain or shine, there was an ice cream truck parked outside of the campus to sell ice cream to desperate students who needed some sugar in their lives. Here it was today.

Suho’s Ice Cream was printed cleanly on the side in a bright gold color and a violet underlay, pastel ice cream sandwiches and sundaes painted the decorations of the truck and so did the insane crowd of mostly female students in front. You assumed the ice cream truck guy to be quite a looker since female college students flocked the ice cream, almost making it like a warzone to get Suho’s ice cream.

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Collapse - Chapter Four

Square One

Cowritten and Proofread by @aoimikans


The door clicked open, and Toshinori’s ear perked at the soft steps that followed. He looked up, face brushing quietly against his pillow.

Relief washed over Toshinori as Izuku slipped into the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.

He’s okay. Toshinori thought as Izuku turned, finally meeting his gaze. He twisted to prop himself on his elbow.

“Midoriya, my boy,” he greeted, grinning when Izuku’s shoulders stiffened, and tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“A-All Might…” Izuku’s voice shook.

Toshinori huffed, smiling fondly, and his tail tapped against the cot.

Giving the boy a quick once-over, Toshinori noted the borrowed clothes, the shadows under his eyes, and the bandages wrapped around his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Izuku shook his head as he picked at the bandages, “ I’ll probably take these off when I get home. The officer who treated me might have gone overboard with the first aid kit.”  

“Overboard or not, make sure you take it easy until they’re 100%,” Toshinori said, ease settling in his bones, “But it’s good to see you’re alright. Very good.”

“Are you?” Izuku asked, brows furrowed seriously, “Alright, I mean?”

Toshinori didn’t miss the way Izuku’s sharp eyes darted over his exposed skin, lips pursed with worry.  

He glanced at the small bruises and scrapes dotting his arms.

“I’m a bit dinged up,” he said and jokingly flexed, “but I’m fine. Really. Recovery Girl already dealt with the worst of it.”

Izuku’s shoulders sagged, and he swayed on his feet.

“Thank goodness,” he sighed.

Toshinori barked a laugh.

“Come here before you fall over,” he said, patting the side of his cot. He sat up with a grunt.

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Speed

You meet a dumb guy at the gym.

Anon said: Could you please do a fluffy Taeil where he tries to act manly and teases y/n but she ends up making fun of him?? The eldest needs love too!!

this is my… last request… i have… nO MORE REQUESTS IN MY INBOX. i never thought this day would come ;;;; anyways i hope this is okay lovely. i thought it was funny so i hope you do too ^^

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Soar

Hoseok rummaged through his drawers, opening them and searching frantically. “Aish~ Where is it?” he muttered to himself. “I can’t believe I actually ran out of paper. Who runs out of paper?” He realized that he needed some desperately because of a surge of inspiration: lyrics were popping through his mind. He had been in a stump for his lyrics lately, and though he had the compositions done, he was in a slump for lyrics.

And knowing him, the words would be fleeting quickly enough, and he needed to write down this random burst of creativity, and he needed to do so now.

But as it turns out, he ran out of paper.

“Ah, it’s-” he whipped his head to the clock, his eyes widening. “2 AM?! I’ve been contemplating lyrics for that long?”

He grabbed a hat and a jacket, slipping on his sneakers and stumbling out of his apartment. He ran down the stairs, thinking of the places that would be open at this hour. He knew this drugstore that was open 24/7. It was within walking distance, too, which was even better.

He sped walked to the place, repeating the lyrics in his mind. He was a little past halfway there when he passed something that had him abruptly stop.

A woman was curled up on a bench, sobbing into her knees.

Hoseok thought to himself that he had to write down these lyrics so that Yoongi and Namjoon could see what he had come up with, but he shook his head, knowing that when someone was troubled, he’d be unable to ignore it. He cursed himself, turning to walk to the bench.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he stood in front of the crying woman, who still didn’t notice his presence.

“Er- hi,” he said, trying not to make the situation more awkward than it already was. “Are you okay, miss?”

The woman looked up at him, her eyes puffy in the dim city lights. Hoseok thought to himself what a stupid question it was to ask, especially since she clearly wasn’t okay. Hoseok scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks turning crimson. “I-I mean… why’s a pretty girl like you crying on a bench this time of night?”

She looked down, blushing as well. “It’s nice that you care, sir, but I’m f-fine,” she sniffled.

“Clearly not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Hoseok said. “You clearly need company. Want to talk about what’s wrong? I’m a stranger, but I’ll listen.”

She shook her head. “Not much I want to t-talk about at the moment.”

“That’s good, too,” Hoseok nodded, sitting next to her. “Would you mind if I talked? I heard that helps sometimes, and I’m good at talking. A lot. Like, way more than is necessary, really.”

The girl giggled despite herself, looking to him. “Okay, stranger. You can talk. I need someone to take my mind off things.”

“Alright,” Hoseok smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll start with my name. I’m Jung Hoseok- but my friends call me J-Hope because it’s more of my stage name, but I’ll let you call me Hoseok. And your name- wait, don’t tell me. You don’t want to talk. Understandable.”

The girl stayed silent, wiping away tears and listening to what the boy said.

“Well, I write music. I produce it, but I’m not a singer per say. I rap,” Hoseok laughs. “Though, sometimes I don’t feel as though I’m as good as my friends, Rap Monster and Suga. They’ve been passionate about writing music and making lyrics and rapping since they were young, and I don’t have as much experience. My company had to teach me because the main thing I’ve been involved with before was dancing.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, and the boy nodded eagerly.

“No, really. I did underground dancing for a long time, entering battles and such.” He made his eyebrows dance, raising them up and down repeatedly. “And I’m not that bad if I do say so myself.”

The girl smiled softly, and Hoseok grinned. “There we go! A pretty for a pretty girl. Don’t cry, smiles are better.”

She blushed lightly, glancing back to him. “Things are just… hard, Hoseok-ssi.”

“I know they can be,” Hoseok said softly. “But I think you just need hope. As long as you’ve got hope, nothing’s over.”

“I can’t exactly find hope nowadays,” she sighs.

“Well, I’ll be your hope then,” Hoseok grins, turning to her. “I mean, my name isn’t J-Hope for nothing, huh?”

The girl breaks out into a full out laugh, and so does he. It felt good for her to laugh, it’s been a while. Hoseok’s breath hitches with what she does next, his cheeks going crimson with her actions. She hugged him, her arms around his neck and her head buried into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Hoseok,” she whispered. “I really needed this, so thank you for giving me hope.”

“N-No problem,” he said, flustered. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her as well, patting her back softly. She pulled away, their eyes meeting.

“I hope this isn’t my last time talking to you, Hoseok.”

“Y-Yeah, I hope so too.”

She gets up, wiping away her tears so that her cheeks were still red, but at least dry. “I’ll… see you later,” she says timidly. Hoseok watches from the bench as she walks away until she eventually disappears into the shadows.

He smiles to himself, intrigued by the young woman.

“… Shit, I forgot my lyrics!”

For the next few days, at exactly 2 AM, Hoseok would return to the bench. He’d wait for half an hour, and return back home. Eventually, he finished lyrics, though he had the sneaking suspicion they weren’t as good as the first. Still, he found himself intrigued and distracted by the young woman he met, his mind never wandering far from her. Though they only had a brief interaction and conversation, he wanted to know more.

That Tuesday was exactly one week from the day he met her, and he decided that if she wasn’t there that night, he would no longer return. He walked to the bench, expecting it to be empty as usual, but instead found a figure curled up atop it.

The girl had been waiting for him, and she looked up to see him. “I was waiting for you,” she says softly. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want this to be the last time I’d talk to you.”

Hoseok found himself smiling.

For the next few weeks, or perhaps, months, they’d meet every Tuesday morning at exactly 2 AM, talking about their problems or about their day, or usually in her case, about random things. Some days she’d have a bruise on her cheek or a nasty cut, and she simply told him she was no dancer like he, so she lacked grace.

One day, Hoseok walked to the bench, finding the girl lying down on the bench, pressing an ice pack to her eye.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his face paling to see her like this.

“It’s nothing, Hoseok,” she mumbled. She began to sit up, but Hoseok sat down, pulling her back to where she rested her head on his lap.

“Let me see,” he insisted.

“I’ve got an ice pack, I’ll be fine.”

“Please don’t argue.”

She sighed, removing the pack. Her eye was swollen, turning black and blue. Hoseok hissed lowly, grimacing at the sight as she put the ice back over the wound. “Who did this? Is it the same reason you keep having those bruises?”

She sighed softly. “My mother died a year ago giving birth to my baby brother. Ever since my dad’s been getting drunk, and he’s been taking out his frustration on me for the past few months.”

“Why don’t you run away?”

“I would, but I’ve got my baby brother to look out for,” she says. “I mean, if I leave, Dad will kill him. And I can’t call the police, Hoseok, I can’t.”

Hoseok pursed his lips. “It’s none of my business, so I won’t pry. I’ll be here for you, no matter what. Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t. Not as long as you’re with me,” she whispers, reaching up to touch his face, moving a strand of hair away from his forehead. He smiled softly, stroking her hair.

“You’ll fly,” Hoseok promised. “Angels always find a way to soar.”

She snorted. “How could I soar if I’ve already fallen?”

“How can you fall if you’ve never flown?”

“Hm, contradictory, aren’t you?” she smiled lightly. “I hope I find a solution.”

“You will,” Hoseok guaranteed. “I’m sure you will.”

Weeks continued. Some days she’d have a swollen eye or perhaps a cut, and Hoseok made sure to bring his backpack where he now stored a first aid kit. She’d allow him to treat her wounds on some mornings, and others she’d treat herself.

One day, he came to the bench, surprised that she wasn’t there. Still, he sat there, waiting and waiting until it was 6 AM, and he knew she wasn’t coming. He went home, taking the day off by texting Yoongi that he wouldn’t be able to come.

He found that burst again, and he remembered what those lyrics were. Luckily for him, ever since that first time the boy had always kept an extra stash of paper, and as he was scribbling down the lyrics that matched perfectly with his composition, he found his attention directed to the TV that he had absentmindedly turned on.

The local news was on, and Hoseok’s eyes widened with what he heard next.

“… a young girl of the name Jeon Jangmi and her baby brother, InJung, are reported as missing. It is suspected that the girl ran away, taking her brother with her. It was all discovered when she hadn’t been seen at work for five days straight, and, concerned, her coworkers checked up at home, only to find the girl’s father’s house trashed with beer bottles and other drugs. Authorities are currently looking for the girl, and the father is currently being held in jail because he is suspected of abuse. If you know anything please call the following number-”

Hoseok clicked the remote, watching as the TV screen clicked to black. He found himself smiling softly, shaking his head.

“I’m proud you decided to finally soar.”

A year passed since he met Jeon Jangmi. Hoseok kept the anniversary to himself, and he was half-glad that she was never found. Of course, he was still partially worried, but he kept himself hopeful that she was thriving wherever she was.

He bought a banquet of roses, and on that cold Tuesday, at precisely 2 AM, he stood in front of the bench, placing the flowers gently on the seat for his lost friend.

He felt a small tug at his pants, and he looked down to see a toddler, either 2 or 3, staring up at him.

“A-Are you Jay-Hoe?” the boy said, his words barely clear enough to understand.

Hoseok snickered to himself. “Indeed I am. Where’re your parents, little boy?”

The boy shook his head. “I’m here w-with my sister.”

“Sister?” Hoseok furrowed his brows. “Well, where is she?”

The small boy pointed past Hoseok, and Hoseok turned around to see Jangmi grinning at him, her hands in her pockets.

“Hey, Hoseok,” she said, her voice quiet as she stared at him.

“Hi, angel,” Hoseok breathed out, barely believing his eyes. “You’ve grown your wings, huh? Have you finally begun to soar?”

“I will now that I have hope,” Jangmi smiled.

anonymous asked:

Ideas that have probably been said before: -Teacher rival is tutoring Taro because he's been falling behind in classes. Ayano gets jealous because she's spending time with him, but not for a creepy reason. -Nurse rival is clumsy, but a good listener and nice. Taro hits his head or something and ends up venting about how he feels unlucky to girls around him while she's giving him an ice pack. She assures him that he's probably not the problem. He goes back over the week when his head still hurts.

lots of good ways to remove the pedophilia from the game

Ficlet:  Shadowboxer

Title: Shadowboxer

Author: @somekindofseizure

Rating:  PG-13

Notes: For Boxing Prompt Anon.

***

The witness is a wiry middleweight with a hoodie pulled up over his head and an unnerving facial tick, no doubt made worse by the unspeakable things he’s seen here at the gym lately.  Mulder is wrapping up and readying himself for a fight with Scully.  Not about his theory – that will come later – but about lunch.  He wants pizza and she doesn’t like having it twice in one week.

She’s already waiting by the ring when he turns around.  There had been a low rumble revolution when she emptied out the locker room, parting the sea of sweaty, scary fighters with her badge.  Now she’s petting the bottom rope like it’s a Clydesdale.  Mulder approaches from behind, hands on his hips to project lunch choice dominance.

“Anything curious about the locker room?” he asks.  

“Other than that they found a dead body in there?”  

The gym is in a rough part of town.  The vibe is territorial, thready with testosterone and secrecy.  A safe deposit box for lifetimes of pent-up rage. Several of the men are watching Scully run her fingers all over their stuff, jaws clenching as their jockstraps no doubt tighten.

“Let me guess.  You think his shadow killed him,” she says.  It’s true, the witness had seen the victim sparring with his shadow late at night… and the shadow violently fighting back.  But Mulder is concentrated on winning the other argument for now, determined to avoid the sad salad she would have them eat.

“Can we talk about it over pizza?”  

She picks up a pair of boxing gloves and spins on the back of one heel to face him.

“You win, we can have pizza.  I win, I pick.”

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Cat Fight

Requested by Anon. Hope you like it. Thanks for requesting Doll.

You pulled up to your house after work to see your bestfriend coming out the door. She wasnt there when you left. You tried to stay calm.
“What are you doing here”? You asked her geting out of the car.
“I was just here to see my man”. She giggled
“Happys the only one here, so why you here bitch”. You started to get mad
“I told you” “Why are you jealous”?
With her smart mouth you lost control and slapped her. She grabbed her face then went after you. Pulling your hair, you went for her throat.
“You fucking bitch I’m going to kill you”. You screamed
Happy must have heard you yelling. The door burst opened and Happy jumped in. Trying to defuse the situation. He grabbed you by the waist and dragged you off her.
“What the hell Y/N” Happy trying to calm you down
“Let me go you cheating fucker”. You pushed him off
“What are you talking about”?
“You fucking my best friend”. “And you your a fucking slut”. You said pointing to her
“Y/N you have it all wrong Baby”.
“Oh I do?, tell me your the only one here and shes walking out of my house with out me here”.
“Y/N, Juice was here and I came over to see him”. Your friend spoke up holding her face.
“Little Girl she’s telling the truth, I would never cheat on you and you should know that”.
“Y/N i would never do that, I mean yeah Happys hot but hes yours and I know not to touch things that are not mine”.
“I’m calling Juice and seeing if its true alright”.
You called Juice and he said he would be over to explain everything.
Not to long after Juice showed up.
“Y/N I promise, they are not fucking”. “I’m the one that is fucking her”. He smiled
“JUICE”.Your friend screamed an punched his shoulder.
“What”? She rolled her eyes.
You calmed down and thought. Happy had every chance to cheat. Croweaters everywhere. The porn business and you knew that she wouldnt betray you like that.
“OK I believe you three”. You said as you went to hug your friend
“Thanks for trusting me”.
“I always will”.
You walked over to Happy, kissed and hugged him.
“I told you I would never cheat on you”. “I want you to trust me”.
“I do Happy I really do”.
You looked over and saw her and Juice laughing. They did make a cute couple.
“Come on girl I’ll get you an ice pack”.
“I need wine”. She laughed
As you two walked inside. Happy and Juice looked at each out and shook their heads.
“After a cat fight they can go on like nothing happened”.
“I know, we did good with these women”. They hi fived.
“Do you think we should tell Y/N that we are moving in with yall for a while until we get our own place”?
“Nah, let them be for now”. “I want popcorn and a beer when she comes after you”. Happy held his stomach as he laughed walking in the house.
“You wont let her hurt me will you Hap, Happy”? Juice ran inside.


tag list @homicidalteenagedream

Nerd. [Part 2.]

Summary: Luke is a pretentious Jock and you are a nerd.

Rated: PG-13

Word Count: 1412

{Part One.}

High school was like a punch in the face, well quite literally now that I thought about it.

I was currently holding an Ice pack to my cheek to my cheek where a girl punched me in the face over Volleyball, I was, of course, horrible at any kind of Physical strength, while basically every other girl practically did circles around me.

“Okay the swelling should go down as you day goes on, and I convinced the coach to just let you watch the guys gym practice as you do your french homework.” I smile broke across my lips as I smiled widely, I grimaced when a stinging pain went down the side of my face, I probably shouldn’t smile.

“Thanks, Shelly.” I stood up quickly engulfing Shelly, the school nurse, into a hug.

“Better get to class before I get arrested.” She joked motioning to the hug, of course, hugging or making any kind of contact with the school board or anyone that was involved with the school was Illegal.

I giggled lightly, happily walking towards my Chemistry class which was easy, I entered class maybe a few seconds late, “Oh Y/L/N” I was waiting for Mr.Carver to bring up the bruise but he didn’t.

“I’m transferring you over to my Senior advanced class, in Mrs.Tracy’s room.” My mouth opened in shock, what… why? “You see, you’re a little bit higher in academics then this class, so I saw it best fitting for more opportunities your life if that’s okay with you?” I could feel the stares of some of my freshmen peers, I blush crept up my neck embarrassingly.

“Uh yeah that’s fine”, I nodded stiffly.

-

I knocked on the door of Mrs.Tracy’s Senior advanced Chemistry class, this should be good.

“Miss Y/L/N, I was informed you were joining my class, I hope to see you doing well in this class.” She smiled shaking my hand, chalk still stuck to her hand from previously writing on the board.

“Uh You can have a seat next to Mr.Lennoard over in the left-” The teacher was cut off by a male strong voice, that I found familiar making chills run down the back of my neck.

“She can sit next to me.” I looked up from my black combat boots seeing those blue eyes, as dark as the sea.

“Alright, you can have a seat next to Mr.Hemmings.” Mrs.Tracy seemed agitated with him, And I didn’t understand why.

I walked to the back, of course, he picks the back..

He pulled out the seat for me, which surprised me, but I gently took a seat, and I quickly realized why he had been gentle men for 1.0 seconds, Luke pulled my chair right next to his, not bothered by my body weight.

“What are you doing in Senior Chemistry Nerd?” He asked, probably not even knowing my name.

“Uh, my teacher wanted me to.” I bit my lip, leaning away from him when his hot breath fanned by neck unconsciously.

He didn’t respond, I caught myself staring at his scattered stubble across his jawline as he twirled a black ink pen in his right hand as he started at the clock above the chalkboard.

I shook my head trying to get him out of my head, as I tried my best to listen to my teacher all the way from the back of the class.

“Well, it looks like you’ll be doing my Chemistry and History Homework.” He grinned not looking at me, I felt anger boil through my veins, he was being a plain jackass now.

“No, go screw yourself.” I hissed hiding my face between my folder avoiding his intense gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart don’t test my patience now.” His voice was graveling and my heart stumbled at the nickname ‘Sweetheart’ that just rolled off his tongue so easily, making me feel these undesirable feelings, do I listen to him?

I turned towards Hemmings and saw his folder in neat cursive I was certain didn’t belong to him saying “Luke Hemmings.” but the paper underneath shown fast drawn handwriting that was hardly recognizable as the English language.

Luke, it fit him.

He was busy typing on his new iPhone, but his gaze was hard as someone was texting him back, I looked up just in time to see Mrs.Tracy looking around the room for someone to answer the question her gaze nearly landing on the handsome bully who demanded  I do his homework.

I kicked his shin harshly he dropped his phone hissing out in pain his eyes looking at me in pure anger, icy with rage and confusion, I was certain I looked like a moron staring back at him with wide doe-like eyes hoping he didn’t punch me right then and there.

“Miss Y/L/N? since you’ve gained the focus of the entire class will you be happy to answer the equation?” I winced looking at the board seeing it was a complicated one that usually took me a VERY long time.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I got up shakily feeling Luke’s gaze on the back of my head, but it wasn’t an infuriating gaze of anger, I couldn’t tell how he felt about my recent risk of action.

My head spun in bewilderment, why the hell did I save his ass from getting his phone taken away the rest of the day? he had been nothing but an asshole to me but yet I had done something to benefit him, not me.

I bit my lip in embarrassment the thoughts clouding over my vision so much I had realized I had been not even close to finishing the equation.

“Not even close Miss Y/L/N.” Mrs.Tracy’s neat eyebrows looked at me in defeat, and I began to question if even going to senior Chemistry was worth it.

-

I sighed dragging my hands down my wet face from recently washing my face off, trying to get him out of my mind.

Decidedly I picked up my messenger bag in Dismay, emotions overflowing from me like an overflowing sink, I pulled out my phone seeing I still had Lunch and French,

on my lock screen was my dream college, Florida University, a long way from Australia, but I so Badly wanted away from Australia as I focused my attention on a stupid dream I couldn’t afford.

I didn’t notice the blonde haired boy at my right when I exited the girl’s bathroom thinking of the cool sea touching my feet, I was suddenly pinned to the cold block wall, and staring stormy eyes, his eyebrows arched together.

“Why did you do that?” He asked it was now my turn to be confused, his one large hand holding my two hands above my head and his other hand on my hip.

“D-Do what?” I stuttered playing stupid obviously knowing he was talking about the cellphone incident, my lips pursed as I tried to keep the lie convincing.

“Don’t tell me white lies, Nerd.” not forgetting to add my favorite nickname of 2016.

“I’m not.” I turned my head away from his gaze, staring at an empty classroom and seeing the whole hallway was empty and everyone else had already gotten to lunch safely.

“You’re face says otherwise.” He leaned in closer, his grip on my wrists tightening, but not enough to bruise.

I hissed in pain and attempted to recoil from his touch, his fingertips on my hips making me feel nervous but they never moved.

“Okay! I’m sorry I saved your ass.” I scowled at Luke, wondering how he even got me in this position so quickly.

“I don’t need your help, All you have to do is my homework, understood?” He leaned in closer to a point where my nose was only an inch away from his own, and if I tried to turn my head even the slightest we would be kissing.

I closed my eyes to avoid his cerulean blue eyes that haunted my thoughts perpetually, half expecting him to kiss me then and there, but he backed away, my arms falling to my sides, My eyelids shot open, to see him no longer standing in front of me but walking down the hallway with determination to get somewhere.

His words now just merely echoed in my mind, All I was to him was his little computer to get all his grades completed perfectly, well if he thought I would do that, he was dead wrong.

Submit some smut idea’s to me please.

{part three}

Sneak Peek!

( Presenting a special Halloween-edition sneak peek of the giant Jacob storyline! Everyone stay safe tonight, and watch out for Samhain! )


A snapped twig, then a rustle, and then a splash drew him out of sleep and Jacob pushed himself up partway to look around. Then, he heard a quiet sound mixing with the rushing water of the stream.

His gaze shot downwards to find a person not ten feet from him, sitting in the streambed. It was only a kid, he realized, with grubby shorts and a shirt with splashes of color on it. The little girl’s pigtails were mussed and she sat in the water with both hands clamped over her knee, but she stared with wide, teary eyes up at Jacob.

“Woah, hey,” he murmured, slowly lowering his head again so he didn’t loom over her. One tiny hand left her knee in a flicker of movement to brush at her eyes before clamping over it again.

“Y-y-you, y-you’re a giant,” she pointed out as Jacob lay down again. The stream wasn’t deep at all, so he could still see her clearly, and she actually seemed more upset about her knee than about how close she sat to a giant.

“I am,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “And you’re all wet. Did you slip?”

He kept thinking the hunters would come running to drag the little girl away from him, to keep her safe from his potentially dangerous movements. But they didn’t come, and Jacob was on his own with the tiniest kid he’d ever seen. She had to be around ten, he guessed absently.

She shook her head, and then sheepishly nodded. “I-I was … sneaking up on you …” she admitted.

Jacob offered her a tentative smile. “You were? I think it worked. Looks like you might have banged yourself up, though,” he replied. With his free hand, he took a chance to slowly lower it towards the stream so he could point at her knee that she so diligently covered with her hands.

His fingertip, bigger than her head, was only a few feet away from her, and she stared at it in more awe than terror. Something about the innocent wonder on her face lifted Jacob’s tired, weary spirits.

When she looked past his hand to his face again, though, she was frowning again. “I hit it on a rock,” she told him, lower lip pouting and quivering just a little. If Jacob didn’t pay attention, he’d miss it.

“Let’s get you out of the stream first, okay?” he said gently. His voice was quieter than he’d ever managed to make it, but there was no chance of her missing it. Once she nodded, Jacob’s hand closed the distance.

He pinched his thumb and first finger around her little waist, and she removed her hands from the forming bruise on her knee as he lifted her from the gently rushing water. Jacob set her down on the dry ground opposite the stream from himself and his hand retreated hastily.

She didn’t make a peep. Instead, she sat propped on her hands and stared at his huge hand.

“That’s gotta be better, right?” he prompted.

She nodded, and then, like kids are wont to do, checked on her bruise with all the seriousness she could muster. “My daddy’s gonna need to get me a ice pack,” she determined.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Jacob said. “I think you should go and get one from him, okay?”

She got to her feet with a wince. Her teeth bothered her lower lip as she tested putting weight on her injured leg. Once accomplished, she gave him a hopeful look. “Can I come back and talk after, mister giant?”

Jacob smiled and remained where he was lying down to avoid startling the trusting child. “I don’t think so,” he told her. Before she could sling her protests at him, he put one finger in front of his lips. She mimicked the motion with wide, surprised eyes. “I need to stay quiet out here, and my friends wouldn’t want you getting in trouble, okay?”

“I can play quietly!” she insisted, then closed her mouth and pursed her lips.

Jacob chuckled. “I bet you can. But if someone else finds out this is where you’re coming, then other people will find out I’m here, right? There are some people who are scared of giants and they might try to … take me away,” he explained, sparing the kid the details.

She looked worried and glanced over her shoulder. “So you’re a secret,” she surmised. Jacob nodded, and the girl drew herself up proudly. “O-okay. I can keep a secret, I’m not a snitch like Paul at school!”

“I’m really glad,” Jacob answered, his smile lingering. “You go get your ice pack, okay?”

The girl sighed, still looking disappointed. She stared at him for a few seconds more before turning and jogging away between the trees. Jacob saw her look back several times before she passed out of sight.

Anon asked: “I’m sorry my kid punched your kid in the face, can I make it up to you over dinner?” AU

The first thing Dean saw when he walked into the office was his daughter sitting in one of the comfortable chairs with an ice pack he’d against her cheek. There was another girl sitting next to her in pretty much the same condition. The secretary looked up him when he signed in.

“Mr. Roman will be with you in just a moment.” Dean nodded and went to sit beside Emma. A moment later the door opened and another man walked in. He signed in as well and sat down beside the other girl.

“Mr. Roman will see you all now.”

The four of them walked into the principal’s office and sat down again. Dick Roman sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together, giving them a slick smile that made Dean’s stomach turn.

“Alright, ladies. Explain.”

“She started it!” Emma said, immediately

“I did not!”

“She called me a bitch!”

“There’s no need for that kind odd language in any circumstance,” Roman said, sitting up. He looked at the other girl. “Miss Novak, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

The girl crossed her arms and huffed. Her dad touched her shoulder.

“Claire, tell me what happened.”

“She was making fun of me,” Claire muttered.

“I was not!”

“I heard you! Her and her stupid friends were talking about me, just like everyone’s been talking about me since I got here. I just got sick of hearing it.”

The man patted her knee, a little awkwardly, like he didn’t know how to comfort her.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Novak, since Claire started the fight we’re going to have to suspend her for three days,” Roman said. Novak nodded.

“I understand. I’m very sorry that this happened.” They were dismissed from the office and the principal turned to Dean and Emma. “Mr. Winchester, we have a zero tolerance policy on bullying. We have no proof that your daughter did say anything, so there’s nothing we can do, but be aware that if anyone does catch her provoking Miss Novak again, she will be punished.”

“Yes, sir.”

Roman waved them off and they walked out of the office.

“Can I just go with you?” Emma asked. Dean nodded.

“Go get your stuff and meet me at the car.” Dean signed them both out and walked to the parking lot. The Novak’s were still there, arguing.

“…you get it? I hate it here! And I hate you!” The girl stormed off, leaving her dad standing there, floundering and calling after her. She got into a car and slammed the door. The man sighed and rubbed his forehead before looking up and noticing Dean watching them.

“I’m very sorry about all of this,” He said, walking over and offering his hand. “Claire….it’s been a rough year. I’m Castiel.”

“Dean,” Dean said, shaking his hand. “And don’t worry about it. Emma’s getting grounded as soon as she gets home. I swear I raised her better than this.” Castiel nodded and glanced at the car his daughter had gotten in.

“I just wish I knew what to do to help her,” He said, softly. He looked so desperate and miserable. Dean bit his lip then spoke without thinking.

~*~

“I can’t believe you invited them for dinner,” Emma mumbled, setting silverware around the plates on the table.

“It will be fun,” Dean told her. “I bet when you get to know this girl you’ll like her.”

“Dad, no one likes her. She’s mean and weird.”

“Emma,” Dean warned. She made a face at him.

“Well, she is. She moves here in the middle of the year looking like that and snaps at anyone who so much as says hello to her.”

“You ever think she may just need someone to try a little harder?” Emma shrugged. “Just try to be civil. Show her your room, talk to her. I bet you’ll be surprised.”

“You only invited them because you think her dad’s hot.”

“That has nothing to do with it.” The doorbell rang and Dean went to answer it. “Be nice and you may get you phone back a little faster.”

Castiel and Claire were standing on the porch, both of them looking irritated. Dean let them in with a small smile.

“Dinner’s not quite finished yet,” Dean said, leading them into the dining room where Emma was finishing setting up. “Claire, maybe you an Emma could go talk in her room.”

Both girls glared at each other for a minute before Emma finally nodded. “I have their new CD if you want to listen to it,” She offered, halfheartedly. Claire look surprised.

“You listen to these guys? I figured all the girls in our school listened to was Taylor Swift.”

“Well, I listen to her, too,” Emma admitted, leading Claire up the stairs. “But not all that often. I prefer…” Her voice trailed off as they disappeared down the hall. Dean shot Castiel a smile and the other man shook his head.

“It’s a miracle.”

“You want a beer?” Dean asked, walking towards the kitchen to check on the chicken.

“Sure. Thank you for inviting us. Neither of go out much and we were starting to go a little crazy.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean said, passing a beer to him and opening one up for himself. “Em said Claire just started school, did you guys just move here?”

“No, I’ve lived here for several years now. Claire moved in with me a few weeks ago,” Castiel looked down at the bottle in his hands. “She’s not happy. I was hoping that she’d have made friends by now.”

“I’m sure she will, once the novelty wears off.”

“I hope you’re right.”

They were quiet again until Dean pulled the chicken from the oven and called up to the girls. They came down the stairs, laughing. Dean winked at Castiel and they all sat down.

“So, Claire,” Dean said, after everyone had gotten what they wanted in their plates. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s okay, I guess,” Claire shrugged. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“Well,” Dean said, then stopped when Emma shook her head a little. “Okay.”

“I was telling Claire about how you surprised me with Rolling Stones tickets for Christmas,” She said, causing Dean to grin.

“She was so mad. She wanted to go see some boy band. But after the show she put every single one of my Stones CDs on her iPod,” He said, proudly.

“I used to go see concerts with my mom. At least twice a year. One for each of us,” Claire said, stabbing her chicken with her fork.

“So, what do you do, Cas?” Dean asked, feeling the tension between him and Claire rise again.

“I’m an accountant,” Castiel said, wiping his mouth. “It’s rather dull.” Claire snorted a little and he looked down at his plate.

“I’m a mechanic. Emma hates it because I’m always covered in something and it always gets on her stuff, too.”

“At least your house isn’t full of ledgers,” Claire muttered.

“Dad, could we go eat in my room?” Emma asked and nodded.

“Yeah, just, uh, don’t make a mess.” When the girls were gone, Castiel pushed his plate away and dropped his head into his hands.

“She’s notnyour biggest fan, huh?”

“She hates me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, it is,” Castiel sighed. “I left when she was young. I thought it would be better that way, and it was. I saw her on her birthday and on holidays, and for a few weeks during the summer. But when she was thirteen, she stopped coming. I wasn’t going to force her to spend time with me so I just completely lost her for years. Then there was an accident and her mother…I wasn’t prepared to be a father again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I just don’t know how to talk to her. She used to be so sweet, she was a ballerina. And now she’s so different.”

“Teenagers do that,” Dean nodded. “Do you want my advice?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“Get rid of the ledgers that you can, give her a home instead of a house. Take her out to dinner sometimes, or to movies. Get to know the new her.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried? All she does is ignore me and lock herself in her room.”

“Maybe you could go with us, then.”

“What?”

“Emma and I go out at least once a week for dinner, and we see a movie at least once a month. It looks like their hitting it off, so come with us.”

“Dean, I can’t intrude on your time with your daughter.”

“You won’t be. And if it feels like you are, we’ll work out something else. I promise, it will work.”

Castiel sighed and looked towards the stairs.

“Okay.”

~*~

The Novaks and the Winchesters ended up seeing a lot more of each other than that.

Emma and Claire became fast friends, bonding over their interest,being only children, and living with single parents. Their relationship caused Dean and Castiel to form one of their own. The girls weren’t shocked when they found them kissing in the kitchen.

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Emma told Claire as they ran back up the stairs, laughing about their dads’ surprised faces.

Castiel and Claire got closer, too. Castiel did as Dean suggested, clearing out a lot of his work stuff and old junk and redecorating with Claire. They also went out for their own father-daughter nights. They were closer than they ever were before when it happened.

“I’m sorry to make you move again so soon,” Castiel said, as he and Claire packed up her room. She shrugged.

“It’s fine,” She said. “I just hope Emma realizes that like ninety percent of her hair care products have got to go.”

“We’ve got the living room done,” Dean said before Castiel could respond, coming into the room. He put an arm around his neck and kissed him, the silver band on his left hand glinting in the sunlight.

“Could you guys not do that in here? It’s gross.”

“It’s a beautiful act, Claire,” Dean said, picking up one of the boxes that had been taped shut. He kissed Castiel one more time and carried it out. Claire rolled her eyes after him.

“Did you have to pick such a dweeb?” She asked. Castiel smiled.

“Unfortunately I did. But he’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She looked around the now empty room and nodded. “I guess that’s it.”

“I suppose. I’ll go get one of the movers to help with your furniture.”

Claire sat on the bed when he was gone and pulled up her mom’s picture on her phone. After her mom’s death, she knew that she would forced to move here, with a father who was too busy for her in a town where she didn’t have anyone. Now here she was with two dads that loved her and a sister who was her best friend.

She still missed her mom like crazy, but this wasn’t so bad either.

anonymous asked:

#2 & #6 with Steve if you're still doing the drabble lol

((Okay but you’re getting skinny!Steve because he needs some love <3))

It had been a long ass day and you were tired as hell. With the oncoming war your boss had started overworking you and the rest of the serving staff, trying to make a few extra bucks where  they could to make up for half their clientele shipping out so soon. 

You would have liked to go home. Take a nice long bath, change into some comfortable clothes, and force Bucky to cook dinner because you’d be damned if you touched another plate before work the next day. You would have liked that very much, but Bucky was being even more irritating and overprotective than usual. He could go out at all hours of the night, dancing with girls and lord knows what else, but the second you so much as looked at a guy it meant trouble. 

Your brother needed to loosen up, and his double standards weren’t doing anything but pissing you off more. That’s why you weren’t going home tonight, you couldn’t stand to be holed up one more night with his pestering questions and angry glares at any guy who got closer than 5 feet of you. Instead you were going to Steve’s. 

He would be fine with it, you were sure. If it came down to it you would take the couch, though you knew Steve’s perfect manners would result in you curled into his sheets and him uncomfortable on the couch. 

He wasn’t home when you got there, but you knew exactly where his spare key was hidden; he was your brother’s best friend after all. 

When you got into his room you were too exhausted and uncomfortable to think about being decent. Your brain wasn’t working at full capacity, so it never really occurred to you that it might be a bad idea to strip down and collapse on a man’s bed. It didn’t cross your mind because the second that blanket was tossed across your shoulders you were out cold. 

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” You woke up to Steve choking and blushing and honestly just freaking out. His good guy code hadn’t prepared him for anything like this. All he knew to do was look away and try to sound civil, though neither of those things were really working in his favour. 

“Bucky’s being an ass and my clothes weren’t comfy. You don’t have any shirts that’ll fit.” 

“Bucky’s being overprotective so you came here to sleep in my bed without any clothes on?”

“Yup.” You popped the ‘p’ and snuggled further into the pillow.

“Are you out of your damn mind?! He’s gonna beat the crap outta me!” Steve wasn’t all that mad, he was just nervous and flustered and boy if Bucky could see him now

“He won’t. He’s almost as protective of you as he is with me. Plus, he doesn’t have to know.”  

“But what if he walks in here and he sees you all… Indecent?” Steve flailed his arm in your general direction - he was facing the wall because that was the only way he’d be able to keep himself from peaking - and you laughed. He couldn’t held but think that you were not helping. 

“Don’t care. You have two options Stevie, you can get in this bed and we can go to sleep or you can go tell my brother to come in here and haul me out. One ends with you cuddling with a cute and very naked girl, and the other, well, ice packs aren’t as cuddly as I am.” 

“If I die tomorrow it’s your fault.” He was grumbling to try and keep the blush on his cheeks from growing exponentially, especially when you wrapped around his fragile body and snuggled up real close. He was sure his heart wasn’t supposed to beat this wildly but it was nice, more than nice, to end his day in your arms. 

Anxiety and Identity: I Wish I'd Appreciated Those Handjobs More

I didn’t realize I liked men until I met my wife. There are very sad stories that start that way but this is not one of them. We are still married. Newlyweds, in fact. This is a happy story. She taught me more about my feelings for men than dating one ever could have. It was late one night early in our relationship. We were both a bit drunk, facetiming each other from our separate beds before we fell asleep. We were telling each other secrets, things we wouldn’t guess. She told me she owned two copies of the movie Taxi starring Jimmy Fallon and Queen Latifah. She told me she’d been on the debate team in high school. I told her I’d had a boyfriend in high school. I’m sure it couldn’t have been quite as sudden as I remember it being but she fell asleep almost immediately.

The next day she told me she’d dated women too. She asked if there’d been more than just the one and how I identified. I told her it was just the one and I identified as straight. She nodded and the conversation continued. It seemed amazing to me that anyone could accept a man who had dated other men as straight. I’d accepted it but I’d also shoved it deep down inside of myself, convinced I was some sort of weird anomaly. That’s dumb though. There is no reason to believe that your sexuality is something you must fully understand at all times. And so, in some strange way, her telling me that it was okay to be a straight man who had once dated another man is actually what made me realize that isn’t actually who I am. I am a man who would happily date men again, if they were men I felt like dating. I would also date women. I would also date anyone else. I am married now and have no intention of dating anyone of any gender, but the fact that I would is still very much a part of me and my identity. Checking one box on a form does not mean you need to check the same box the next time. This doesn’t mean your sexuality isn’t an important part of your identity, it is. Or at least it can be, if you want it to be. All it means is that your identity is your own. God, I wish someone told teenagers that. Gay teenagers, straight teenagers, asexual teenagers, bisexual teenagers, whatever.

My identity never felt like my own. It felt like some asshole had pinned it to a sign on my back and I was doomed to spend the rest of my life trying to figure it out. That the chorus of people asking “are you sure you’re not gay?” knew something I didn’t. It came at me relentlessly from all sides. From the bullies who had taken to yelling a particular ‘F’ slur at me in the halls, and from the friends who were really honestly trying their best to be good people when they repeatedly told me it was safe to come out to them. As an adult I’ve been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. I take medication every day, I see a counselor whenever I can. But at the time I was just a tightly wound ball of nerves, wondering why I’d never been given the instruction manual on how to be a real human being.

It was scary and indescribably lonely. Whenever my anxiety is at its worst, I develop this severe worry that everyone in the world is able to hear each other’s thoughts except me. That I am missing out on a very basic human function and that everyone but me knows it. As soon as I come down I realize it is a batshit insane worry but in the moment it feels real. It doesn’t happen often but it happens. The basic gist of it is the fear that there is something fundamental being held from me and that’s exactly how I was being made to feel about my own sexuality. I was petrified of getting it wrong, of missing the greater truth. But there is no greater truth. You can’t be wrong about what you enjoy. The things that feel right to you just are right to you. It took me too many years to figure that out. Too many years and one very uncomfortable relationship.

I was drunk at a party the night Alan asked if it would be okay to kiss me. He was short and slim. Not only could you see his ribs through his skin, you could almost make them out through his t-shirt. His cheeks were spotted with acne and he had gold braces that seemed to match the frosted tips of his hair. I shrugged my shoulders. I thought maybe this would be the kiss that would answer all of my questions. To finally tell me who I was. It did not.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had the experience of kissing a scrawny fifteen year-old boy with braces but it’s an awful lot like kissing a scrawny fifteen year-old girl with braces. They both have the same smooth hairless cheeks, marred only by hormone-induced acne breakouts. Both will be just as sloppy and awkward and just as regrettable in hindsight. Both will give you that same excited feeling in the pit of your stomach, the feeling that someone finds you attractive. Especially when you’re feeling lonely at Lisa H.’s party and you’ve just finished the four pack of green apple Smirnoff Ice her older boyfriend bought you. Do not let that be the thing that defines you. You should probably never let any kiss define you, but certainly not that one.

We didn’t talk about that kiss after that night. Not until the next party, with the next pack of Smirnoff Ice. Tara was there, an older girl I’d had a crush on all year. We spent the night talking about Bjork and our favorite movies. I thought things were going great until she quietly asked if I was gay. I told her no and optimistically hoped she had asked to save herself embarrassment before declaring her love.

“You don’t like guys at all?” She added, seemingly unable to take my word for it.

I shrugged.

I didn’t know because I’d just finished my four pack of green apple Smirnoff Ice and didn’t feel mentally prepared to tackle my very complicated feelings on my sexuality. I didn’t know because I’d just finished my four pack of green apple Smirnoff Ice and I’d been made to feel like that was something guys who like guys do. I didn’t know because this seemed to keep happening. She reassured me it was okay and I wandered off angrily. I collapsed underneath the stairs next to a pink-haired boy named Ben. He was from out of town, no one at the party really knew him. I thought he could be my impartial jury. After I finished spilling my guts out he asked if I’d enjoyed kissing Alan. I said it was nice. Sort of fun. Ben told me that settled it. The answer was clear.

“You’re gay.”

That didn’t feel right! I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. I got down to my knees and threw up in the toilet before realizing that someone had tried—for some inexplicable reason that would probably make a good story of its own—to flush a phonebook down it. I sat on the edge of the tub, unsure of how I could possibly leave the room. I’d be entering the room as a gay man and I wasn’t prepared for that. I also wasn’t prepared to explain that I’d thrown up and wasn’t sure how to flush the toilet because of the phonebook that’d been shoved down there. But eventually I did it, I walked out nonchalantly and sat down on the couch. Alan asked if I wanted to kiss again. I said okay. He asked if I’d be his boyfriend. I said okay.

What followed was a very short relationship in which I avoided Alan as much as I possibly could. We held hands at lunch but I hardly said a word. He texted me all day and I’d respond once or twice, when I could get up the nerve. Instead of enjoying time with the boy I enjoyed kissing, I spent every waking moment agonizing over my sexuality. What if I was dating this boy and I wasn’t actually interested in boys, what sort of monster does something like that? He gave me a handjob in his basement and I stared at the ceiling wondering—as I came—whether I liked handjobs from guys. To that point Alan and myself had been the only people to give them to me, it seemed hard to tell. We broke up after a couple of months. He got in a fight with my best friend and I chose that friend over him. I was relieved. I would never have to think about any of those things again. And I didn’t. For a long time. At least I never admitted I did.

There was a guy in one of my classes who called me a f*ggot every time he saw me. And I walked past, awkward and ashamed. He seemed to get a little louder every time. He said it in the hall one time, as I sat with all of my friends.

“So what if he is?” They shouted after him. My stomach turned. Like yeah, so what if I was. But god, I didn’t want to have that conversation. And surprisingly I didn’t have to. My friends stopped asking me about my sexuality after I dated Alan. I assume because they felt they’d been proven right. But I took it as the opportunity to slink quietly back into the closet, intent on never discussing my sexuality again.

A while after I’d first told my wife (then girlfriend) about Alan she brought it up a second time. She didn’t want me to feel any pressure or anything but she was curious what about the relationship had made me so sure I was straight. I told her I didn’t have a good answer to that. I just didn’t feel like I had the necessary qualifications to be anything but straight. I’d dated a man and no one had given me my Queer membership card. It felt easier just not to think about it anymore.

That’s not how things work though. My relationship with Alan was not a lesson about my orientation, it was a lesson about my anxiety. About my self-doubt. I’d gotten so caught up in giving myself the correct label that it hadn’t quite occurred to me that those identifiers are only there to identify the way you feel.

There is no wrong answer when someone asks you if you like something. Your honest answer is the right one. I was paralyzed by a fear of failure but it turns out it’s really incredibly difficult to fail at having sex with whoever you want to have sex with.